


You Had Fun

by KissingWinchesters



Series: YouKnowTheyAreBrothers Blog [47]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Rimming, Sam Winchester's Birthday, Sam's Birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 16:10:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13505061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissingWinchesters/pseuds/KissingWinchesters
Summary: Your birthday, your rules. You’re the driver today and you know what that means.





	You Had Fun

**Author's Note:**

> Read the original work including art/gifs [HERE](http://youknowtheyarebrothers.tumblr.com/post/160235424980/oh-man-you-look-worse-than-i-feel-dean)

“Oh man, you look worse than I feel.”

Dean stretches his legs and crosses them at the ankles, watching Sam shuffle barefoot into the kitchen.

“Why do I let you talk me into these things?” Sam pours a chilled glass of water from the jug he keeps in the fridge and downs the whole thing before pouring another.

“Didn’t take much persuasion from what I remember.”

Sam sits down opposite Dean and pushes his fingers against his temples. No, Dean hadn’t had to do much to persuade him to go out last night for “a few” pre-birthday drinks. Sam had said he’d be fine having a beer or two at the bunker, but Dean had scrunched up his nose and put on a new denim shirt that hugged him in all the right places and… well, it’s hard to say no to Dean in any circumstances.

“You had fun. Admit it.” Dean grins and stands up, ruffling Sam’s hair. He takes a pan from the shelf and a box of eggs. “You sang in the car on the way home.”

Sam turns his head and frowns. “I did?”

“Oh, yep.” Dean cracks an egg into a bowl and points a fork in his brother’s direction. “Bat out of Hell, Sammy.”

“Well, least it wasn’t T-Swift.” Sam smiles slyly and puts his head down on his arms. “You making me breakfast?”

“Yeah. You want some tomatoes too?”

Sam nods, content to watch the familiar movements of Dean’s hands and arms, the casual sway of his hips as he whisks milk and salt and pepper into the eggs. His head is pounding, his memory is a little fuzzy, but it’s turning into a pretty good birthday.

“What do you want to do today? We could go see a movie? I can’t remember the last time we did that.”

Switching on the radio, Dean tips the egg mixture into the pan, giving Sam a good opportunity to check out Dean’s ass while his back is turned.

“You’d just be feeling me up and not watching the movie.” Dean looks over his shoulder and winks, making Sam laugh. “Lets stay home.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dean says. “Your birthday, your rules.”

Sam sits up, eyebrows raised.

“You sure you wanna be saying something like that?”

Dean looks back over his shoulder again, a definite glint in his eyes.

“Whatever you want. You’re the driver today and you know what that means.”

Sam stands and walks up behind Dean, hips to butt. He props his chin on Dean’s shoulder.

“Wanna take a shower after breakfast?”

Dean’s lips pull up into a smile, but his eggs don’t lose his focus, no matter how hard Sam presses against him.

“I’m still kinda tired too. We could go back to bed?”

“A nap? You got old, little brother. You’ll be catching up with me.”

Sam smacks Dean’s ass playfully and moves around him so that he can lean against the counter. Dean scrapes the perfectly well done eggs and grilled tomatoes onto two plates.

“You love naps.” Sam steals some food from Dean’s plate, his head still thumping, but fading fast. He’s never too bothered about birthdays, but having Dean do anything he wants, it’s giving Sam all kinds of ideas.

“I’ve created a monster,” Dean grumbles, taking his eggs over to the table, but the glint in his eyes is still there.

It doesn’t take them long to finish their breakfast.

***

Sam wasn’t kidding about the nap.

After a long make out session in the shower and a quick mutual hand job, their previous night of drinking caught up with them and they had fallen happily into Dean’s bed without bothering to put any clothes on.

A few hours later, Sam wakes up with Dean on top of him, his cheek adorably smushed on Sam’s chest.

“Dean?” Sam’s stomach growls loudly. “Wake up.”

Dean snorts and blinks owlishly, but doesn’t complain about having to get up. Sam makes a mental note for Dean to be this obedient on his next birthday too, he could get used to it.

He’s just drifting off, half awake half snoozing, when Dean crushes a slice of cake against Sam’s nose, bright pink frosting going everywhere.

“What? I missed,” Dean laughs. “I was aiming for your mouth. You said you were hungry.”

“Jerk,” Sam says, swiping as much frosting off his face as he can and getting to his knees.

“You wanna go?” Dean asks, grinning wolfishly and raising his hands. “Bitch.”

They wrestle for a while, Dean cheating by tickling Sam’s ribs, but then Sam wraps his legs around Dean’s waist, using his thigh muscles and biting kisses to Dean’s neck to subdue him.

After that they make out for a little longer before Sam drags Dean out of bed, chuckling at his brothers irritated pout.

“Lets go for a drive.”

Dean immediately perks up.

“Yeah?”

Sam nods, rummaging through Dean’s drawers for some of his own clothes. There’s usually a few things left in each other’s rooms.

“Where d'you wanna go?” The covers are pooled around Dean’s waist, making him look like a catalogue model.

“Just anywhere. Nowhere.”

Dean laughs. “Is today my birthday or yours?”

Sam approaches the bed, clad only on a pair of boxers. Like a magnet, Dean moves towards him, his hands finding the sharp cuts of Sam’s hip bones.

“It’s mine,” Sam says, holding both sides of Dean’s face in his hands. He lowers his head, close enough to feel Dean’s breath but not quite touching him. “You can drive, but I’m picking the music.

Dean groans against Sam’s lips.

***

Parking the impala, Dean reluctantly takes his hand off Sam’s leg and gets out. He breathes in deeply, stretching his arms over his head. They’ve been out for hours, talking, not talking, tearing up the asphalt with no destination in mind. The bunker is definitely home for them both now, but their real home, where they will always belong, is in the Impala. Side by side.

"That was a great idea, Sammy,” Dean says, sounding happy and a bit strung out.

Sam stays quiet, but walks around the car to where his brother is now leaning. The lights aren’t on in the garage, but the stars are giving them both enough to see by.

Keeping his eyes on Dean, Sam backs up until he hits the wall behind him.

“Come here.”

Dean’s teeth are a stark contrast to the darkness, his lip pulled between them as he swaggers over.

Sam puts a hand on Dean’s chest, stopping him from kissing him. Dean frowns, but he’s curious, and from the heat radiating off him, he’s more than a little turned on.

“Undress me,” Sam instructs, his voice low but steady.

Dean’s hands immediately go for Sam’s shirt, rucking it up a little with eagerness to undo the buttons.

“No. just my pants.”

“Fuck…” Dean licks his lips and drops his hands, his palm grazing Sam’s dick. He’s been half hard for most of the drive, Dean kept getting distracted from the road to look, but a hard squeeze confirms that Sam is fully hard now, and struggling with the pressure of being confined in his jeans.

Dean yanks Sam’s belt open, then the top button, fingers stopping on the zipper long enough for Sam to make a frustrated noise. It’s Sam’s day, but Dean knows that he likes to be teased, despite what he might say to the contrary.

Sliding the zipper down, Dean nudges his knee between Sam’s legs.

“What do you want?”

“Guess.” Sam’s back arches against the wall, and he moans at the sensation of Dean’s deft fingers pulling his jeans and boxers down to his thighs.

“Want me to blow you?” Dean drops to one knee, sliding Sam’s clothes over his knees and kissing the inside of his thigh. “You love that.”

Sam looks down, eyes dark and breathing fast. He shakes his head.

When Dean stands, he runs both hands up Sam’s legs, nails scraping his skin. He doesn’t touch his cock which is straining obscenely towards him.

“Hmm, I’ve got you facing the wrong way, haven’t I?” Dean sucks on Sam’s neck, pressing their bodies together.

Suddenly, pulls away and grabs Sam’s jacket, spinning him around so that his face is against the cold brick wall. Dean is back on the ground in a second, knees be damned, spreading Sam open, his mouth watering.

“Make me come just from that, Dean.”

“Uh-huh, whatever you want.” Dean licks his lips and then licks up the centre of Sam’s ass, keeping his tongue stiff to really make Sam feel it. He can smell Sam’s arousal, hear his strained breaths above him. Dean digs his fingers into the taught muscles of Sam’s ass and wiggles his face into him, savouring the intoxicating heat.

Losing himself, Dean is so focused on lapping at Sam’s hole that he vaguely hears Sam say something, but with a gun to his head Dean wouldn’t be able to repeat it. He gives Sam another wet lick and then sits back on his calves.

“What?” Dean wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Can you do that faster, and use more tongue.”

Sam doesn’t even bother to look down at Dean, he’s practically humping the wall. Dean isn’t sure if he’s getting off more from being eaten out or from bossing Dean around.

“Sir, yes sir.” Dean salutes and then buries his face back into Sam’s ass, flicking his tongue out quicker, harder, and being rewarded by a wrecked gasp from Sam.

“God, Dean,” Sam shudders, taking his hand off the wall and reaching down to fist his cock. “So good at that.”

Dean hums, knowing how intimately Sam will feel the vibration. He is good at it, he enjoys it, much to his initial disbelief that he would. But anything that involves making Sam happy, giving him pleasure, then there’s no one more qualified for the job than Dean.

Giving Sam’s ass a good squeeze, Dean one handedly undoes his jeans and takes himself out of his briefs, stroking his aching dick. He points his tongue and licks around the rim of Sam’s ass, his hole loose and pink.

He can tell that Sam is pretty close when his legs start to tremble.

“More… fuck, Dean, more…”

Dean makes a mental note to rag Sam later for being such a demanding bitch. In the meantime, his jaw and knees are killing him and Sam needs to come, like now.

Letting go of his dick, Dean puts all his energy in getting Sam off. He swirls his tongue inside, penetrating as deep as possible, and Sam bucks his hips back, craving more.

“Keep going, keep going,” Sam chants, hissing.

Dean runs his hand up between Sam’s legs and cups his balls, rolling them and squeezing firmly.

Sam cries out and shudders, his ass clenching at his release. Dean backs off, not wanting his tongue to get trapped, but he bites and licks at Sam’s ass cheeks while Sam paints the wall with come.

After heaving in a few breaths, Sam turns around and hauls Dean to his feet. His large hand wraps around Dean’s dick, and he twists his wrist around the head, making Dean’s eyes close and his mouth part.

“Beautiful,” Sam murmurs, kissing his brother in spite of the fact of where his mouth has just been. In fact, Sam’s cock gives a little twitch at the thought of it.

It doesn’t take long to bring Dean to the edge, his fingers digging into Sam’s shoulders as he clings on through the first rush of his orgasm. Sam had angled Dean’s cock downwards, making sure that Dean’s come landed on his own.

“Fuck me, that was hot.” Dean slumps against Sa, knocking him back so that he’s leaning against the wall again.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, laughing under his breath.

“What’s so funny?” Dean tilts his head back and squints at Sam.

“You just made me put my back on… I came on the wall, Dean.”

“Sucks to be you, I guess,” Dean replies, slumping back down against Sam’s chest.

“Mm, it’s my birthday remember?” Sam wraps his arms around Dean’s waist. They’re having a recovery time cuddle it seems. Not that he’s complaining. Dean smells like sweat and sex and home. Sam couldn’t be happier.

“You sure it’s still your birthday? It’s not May 3rd yet?”

“Nope,” Sam says, kissing the top of Dean’s head. “So after you’ve cleaned the mess up in here, cleaned us both up…”

“Another shower?” Dean leans back again and grins.

“Yeah, another shower. Then we can order a pizza.”

“This is my kinda your birthday, Sammy,” Dean says, kissing Sam deeply.

Yeah, Sam thinks so too.


End file.
